


Somebody To Lean On

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, University AU, fluff. just fluff. we need it right now i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons is unconvinced about the science behind cats being good for stress. But the kitten Fitz brought home for her is awfully cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody To Lean On

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure AU fluff because I think we, myself included, all need that right now. Badly.

Simmons was having trouble adjusting to life at MIT. There were more students than at her previous university, and it was a bigger, busier city, and it wasn't the country she grew up in, and everyone but Fitz she knew was a world away. Sometimes it was great. It was an adventure, a whole new start in a new city, full of people she'd never met. Simmons loved new things, new experiences. She was a scientist, it came with the territory. But sometimes that made it worse. Knowing that she was supposed enjoy new people and experiences, knowing that it was an essential facet of her identity, made it even harder when it all got to be too much and she couldn't take it. But sometimes there were just too many new people, and too many new things, and she got overwhelmed and suddenly her chest would be tight and her vision would blur and her nails would dig into any available surface. 

She wasn't a stranger to anxiety. She'd had it sense she started secondary school. Panic attacks and disassociation and everything that came with them was old news. But back at home she had a handle on it, back at home it had been manageable. But here she was spiraling. And it was killing Fitz, she could tell. He hovered and fussed constantly, skipping classes when she did to keep her company, making sure her favorite tea was always stocked in their kitchenette. And she appreciated it more than she could ever put into words, but they both knew that sometimes there just isn't anything that you can do. 

It was her third day in a row calling in sick to classes, holed up in her room doing makeup work and slowly counting to twenty in french, over and over again, that Fitz vanishes for a mysterious errand. He won't tell her what, only pats her shoulder and kisses the top of her head and tells her he'll be back soon. She's emailing an individual project proposal to her advanced organic chemistry professor when there's a series of bangs and shouts and finally the sound of Fitz unlocking the door, followed by a stream of curses. 

"Fitz?" 

"Yeah, hold on, oh bloody hell, yes, hi, just a second." 

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just hold on will you?"

With one eyebrow raised, she leans forward towards the door, but she can't see what he's doing past the door frame, so she shuts her laptop and waits. A few moments later, Fitz walks through the door, sets down a bag on the bed from the local bakery, which from the smell alone she can tell contains at least two of her favorite pastries, and then holds up one finger and then vanishes again. She pulls out a danish and nibbles the edge, but drops it into the bag in surprise when Fitz enters again. 

"Ta da!" he says jovially, extending both his hands. Held carefully between them is, much to Simmons' confusion, a small cat. Not quite still a kitten but not an adult cat yet. It blinks at her. 

"Fitz? Why are you holding a cat?"

"It's for you."

"Why?"

"I thought it might help. Well, she. It's a girl. I figured I'd let you name 'er. Since she's yours." 

"Help? With what?"

"Studies show that therapy animals are good for anxiety, and I know purring specifically is supposed to be particularly beneficial, and you've always liked cats anyway, so. Yeah." he shrugs and sets the animal in Simmons' lap and then sits at the edge of the bed. She regards the cat curiously, extending a hand to her. The small animal licks her fingers. 

"Well.. I suppose she is rather adorable." Simmons mused thoughtfully. The cat is a particularly fluffy ragdoll with blue eyes. She purrs as Simmons moves to scratch between her ears, and Simmons smiles. 

"You like her then?"

"It was a bit of a silly thing to do, since you didn't know how I'd take it. But she's quite soft. I suppose it couldn't hurt." 

The cat becomes alternately known as Crookshanks, Curie, or Hey Cat, depending on the day and who is addressing her. She ends up helping both Fitz and Simmons in the end, Fitz taking a strange comfort in pulling her into his lap to comb the knots from her fur, then depositing her into Simmons' lap she she can pet the cat while he tends to her hair instead. They're a funny little family. But Simmons can feel a little of the weight ease from her shoulders. There are still bad days, but if she pulls Curie, her favored name for the cat, up onto her shoulder, Curie will purr happily and rub her face against Simmons' chin, and she breathes a little easier. There are days when she can't even remember the bad days, and she curls easily into Fitz's side to watch movies on the sofa, the warmth of his skin on one side of her and the soft purring of Curie on her lap, while she and Fitz bicker about whether having two names bothers the cat. 

When Christmas rolls around and they decide not to go home, they even give Curie a stocking on the wall. It's small and purple and has both of her names written on it, silver glitter done in Simmons' neat cursive. Skye gives them a tiny elf hat for her, which she wears for all of the five minutes it takes them to take a picture of all three of them. 

it's not always easy, but things look brighter every day.


End file.
